Reason To Refrain
by LilyBolt
Summary: ' "Sam, what are you doing with that gun?" Castiel asked warily, looking at the pistol in Sam's right hand, then the envelope on the ground with Dean's and Bobby's names on it, and finally, up into the guilt-filled eyes of his friend. ' . . . An early season 5 oneshot written at the request of AlxM, in which Sam and Castiel have a much needed talk. Not a slash fiction.


**TRIGGER WARNINGS: Suicidal thoughts included within this story. Please do not read if you feel that will negatively effect you in any way. My writing is definitely NOT worth that kind of risk. **

**OTHER WARNINGS: Spoilers for the season 4 finale, and for season 5 in general.**

**Author's Note: This is to fulfill a request made by AlxM. The prompt that was given to me is as follows, though I've cut out some major parts here so as not to give plot information away before you read it:  
**

_**"After starting the apocalypse, Sam believes he deserves to die, but it turns out that his body is completely unwilling to pull the trigger, as if it is fighting with every fiber against him. That only leaves one other option. Have someone else do it. Dean is out of the question, and Bobby too. Well, that just leaves Castiel..."**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.  
**

* * *

It was silent in the field behind Bobby's junkyard, with nothing but the sound of Sam's own feet shuffling in the dirt as he approached a secluded clump of old trees. It was a private enough place for his intentions- just beyond Bobby's property- though not as far away from his brother and surrogate father as he would initially have planned.

Originally, Sam had wanted to leave Sioux Falls altogether before doing this. However, after considering that he might back out if given enough time on a drive to think about things, he chose to head for the nearest location at which his family wouldn't see what he was about to do. They'd still find him, of course, but not until his task was long finished.

With that thought, Sam pulled out two items from his pocket. One was an envelope containing explanatory notes for both Dean and Bobby. The other was a loaded pistol. He set the envelope on the ground to his right and then stood up straight, raising the pistol to his right temple and giving the night sky one last glance.

A glance which turned into a gaze as the moments ticked by…

Sam's hand trembled as it held the gun, and he was thinking about how much good he would be doing the world by ridding it of himself as a threat. He had started the apocalypse, after all. He had brought doomsday to the planet's doorstep, and surely that was cause for him to back out, right? Obviously ending his own life would be a good thing, right? It would help keep innocent people living.

Innocent people like his brother, who would surely end up dead if Sam kept subjecting him to his cursed presence. His brother, who used to watch the stars above with him, but now could barely stand to be in the same room as him longer than absolutely necessary.

As time ticked on Sam became more and more upset, yet no matter how hard he tried or how much Sam told himself he wanted to, he could not get his finger to tighten on the trigger.

He stood there for a few minutes longer, willing his body to cooperate and yet finding it impossible to finish the job he'd set out to do. With a frustrated huff, he finally lowered his weapon.

"Damn it!" Sam hissed, breaking the silence around him.

He wasn't sure if his hand wasn't listening to him because of some magic related to him being Satan's vessel, or if some part of his subconscious wouldn't commit to letting him take this type of exit, even if it was meant to protect the world from any other blunders he might make.

Then an idea struck him.

He was obviously not having much luck with doing this by himself, but perhaps he could have some help. Not from Dean or from Bobby, naturally. Both men would be fully against what Sam was trying to accomplish. They would definitely feel obligated to protect him like they always had, no matter how much they resented him for his mistakes. Old habits died hard.

That left one other option.

"Castiel?" Sam called out questioningly to the heavens. "Castiel, if you can hear me I could really use your help right now." He added softly, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the act of talking to thin air.

There was a fluttering of wings and then a familiar gravelly voice said, "Hello, Sam."

Sam turned around and came face to face with the angel Castiel, who looked weary and rather disheveled. He had clearly been worn down by the fight against his brethren, and Sam figured he could add the angel to the list of those who had suffered as a result of his own misdeeds.

But luckily, Castiel didn't have some habitual need to look after Sam's health. He would surely be able to take out all his suffering out on Sam with no fuss, and finish the job that Sam couldn't.

"Hey, Cas." Sam said, trying to sound casual. He wasn't entirely sure how to approach the matter he wanted to discuss.

"Sam, what are you doing with that gun?" Castiel asked warily, looking at the pistol in Sam's right hand, then the envelope on the ground with Dean's and Bobby's names on it, and finally, up into the guilt-filled eyes of his friend.

"Technically nothing. That's kind of the problem." Sam replied with an attempted chuckle that ended up sounding more like a pained breath. "Cas, I need you to help me. I don't know why, but I apparently can't just do this alone like I wanted to." The hunter tried to explain, feeling a twinge of shame.

"Help you with what?" Castiel inquired slowly, though it was clear from his suspicious expression that he already had an idea of what Sam's plans were.

"I started the apocalypse." Sam began with a sigh. "I broke the entire planet, and after doing something like that…I don't get to just walk away from it. I never can make up for the wrong I've done, and I honestly believe that trying to only gives me more opportunities to wreck things even worse. I was trying to do the right thing back when I killed Lilith, and obviously that didn't end well. I just…"

"Sam, I believe I know what you're trying to ask of me, and I want…" Cas interrupted Sam, but the hunter cut him off before he could finish.

"Cas, what _I_ want is to no longer be a threat to the world, and I only know of one sure way to make that happen. Please, Cas. Help me out here." Sam finished, offering the pistol to the angel.

Cas stared at the gun and then at his friend. He could see great pain and self-loathing in Sam's troubled, pleading gaze, and he knew the young man truly believed that ending his own life was somehow for the better. However, Castiel had an entirely different opinion, and was determined to make Sam see things his way.

"No." the angel said simply, pushing the gun away and staring Sam dead in the eyes. "I will not let you do this, Sam Winchester." He added firmly.

"Look, if you're doing this because you think Dean would be upset, I get it. You care about his feelings, but so do I. Don't you see that this is helping him? I've put him through so much already…And he'll be safer without me dragging him down anymore. " Sam insisted.

"Ignoring the fact that your brother would rather return to Hell than to exist in a world where you were dead, the answer is still no." Castiel stated calmly.

"I don't understand. You want the world safe too, right? That's why you're fighting for us. Don't you get that me being gone improves the odds of your success?" Sam debated.

"Sam, we need as many good people on our side as possible right now. Our 'odds of success' are slim to none already. Taking one of our best men out of the picture would only doom us." Castiel countered.

"But I'm _not_ one of your best men. I'm a screw up and I cause trouble everywhere I go. I'm bad luck and you should get rid of me before it costs you and everyone else." Sam encouraged, trying to shove the pistol into Castiel's hand.

Castiel grabbed the gun from Sam and then casually tossed it to the side, watching it land in a clump of brush a few feet away.

"Sam, you made a mistake. You experienced a lapse in judgment, but this entire disaster does not rest on your shoulders alone." Cas declared, locking eyes with Sam and delivering one of his patented intense stares. "Dean is the man responsible for the first seal's destruction. I was given the order to release you from that room in Bobby's basement…"

Sam opened his mouth to speak when he heard that Cas was the force that had unlocked the panic room door, but before he could say anything, Castiel was already pushing ahead with more impassioned words.

"All three of us had a hand in the events leading up to this catastrophe, and I think it is only fair that all three of us are responsible to make our best effort to, how does your brother put it? To 'clean up our mess'." Castiel finished his tirade with air quotes that somehow made him seem less intimidating than Sam was sure he had intended to appear. But aside from finding humor in Castiel's mannerisms, the hunter also found value in his words.

The angel was right. They had all technically done something to contribute to the apocalypse, and even if Sam felt his role was more destructive than the rest, then perhaps it was only more important that he contribute to the cleanup.

"Ok." Sam finally said, raising his hands in defeat. "I hear you. I'll stick it out with you guys."

"Good." Castiel said with a small smile. He raised a hand and suddenly the pistol was held in his grasp once more. He made a move as if to deliver the gun back to Sam, but paused midway through the transfer. "You should know that even if you had borne the sole responsibility for Lucifer's release, I still wouldn't have agreed to shoot you." the angel said softly.

"Yeah, well, Dean would probably be glad to hear that." Sam replied lightly, reaching out and retrieving his weapon from Castiel's hand.

"You still think I would refrain from killing you just because of Dean's opinions?" Cas asked as he let go of the pistol, his head tilted slightly to the side in genuine confusion.

Sam was quiet, not knowing what to say. He really did believe that Castiel valued the trust he had built with Dean, and Sam was sure the angel wouldn't do anything to blatantly destroy that. But was there more to it than just that?

"Sam, you are my friend. Don't you understand that I wouldn't be able to kill you because I wouldn't want to see you dead?" the angel asked, his eyes radiating sincerity.

Again, Sam was speechless for a moment. The label of 'friend' was a far cry from the previous year, back when the angel had referred to him simply as 'the boy with the demon blood'.

But Sam found he was happy with the change.

"Thanks." Sam finally responded with a small smile, and as they headed back towards Bobby's house he added, "I really appreciate it, Cas."

* * *

**Secondary Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please do leave feedback and/or prompts. I love that sort of stuff. :) **


End file.
